


Take Me Apart

by vintagelilacs



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, that's all there is to it really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-16 04:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16947279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagelilacs/pseuds/vintagelilacs
Summary: Arthur really can take Merlin apart with one blow.





	Take Me Apart

**Author's Note:**

> this has probably already been done a thousand times in this fandom

There was a stain on Arthur’s blue tunic. A faded--but still visible!--stain. Dull brown, likely some sort of sauce that spilled during dinner, or even dried blood from an altercation or battle. Normally a stained tunic wouldn’t bother him, but he’d just plucked it from the _clean_ pile. The fabric was still slightly damp, proof that it had been washed, though clearly not very competently.

“You really are a useless fool, you know that, Merlin?” 

His recently appointed manservant muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘takes one to know one.’

No way in Camelot was he letting that one slide. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day.” Or perhaps it would get Arthur in trouble, since he didn’t seem able to stop staring at it. 

Merlin dropped the rag he was using to polish Arthur’s armour and turned to face him. “I can handle myself.” 

“Right,” he snorted. “I wasn’t exaggerating earlier when I said I could take you apart with one blow.” 

Merlin’s ample pink lips hooked in a sneer. “If you could land a blow, maybe.” 

Arthur narrowed his eyes. Merlin really was too insolent for his own good. He needed to be put in his place, but it seemed no amount of chores or menial labour would remind him of his station. He didn’t know when to back down or how to hold his tongue, and he had no respect for authority. From the moment they’d met, nothing Arthur said or did seemed to faze him. It was maddening. He wanted to get under Merlin’s skin in the same way that Merlin’s insubordinate remarks and gibes needled at him. 

“I never said I meant that sort of a blow,” Arthur said slowly, carefully gauging Merlin’s reaction.

“What other sort is th--” Merlin’s already slightly protuberant eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “You don’t mean…” 

Arthur cocked his brow, letting his eyes flicker over Merlin’s slim body. “Don’t I?” 

A comely shade of pink suffused Merlin’s cheeks. “I-it’s not like you’d be any good, anyway.” 

_A stutter._ That was certainly a first from his sharp-tongued manservant. “Well, you won’t know unless you find out, now will you?” 

Merlin’s face warred with disbelief and what Arthur chose to interpret as tentative hopefulness. “You’re jesting.” 

Arthur laughed. “I’ve hunted deer that looked less stunned than you right now. And for the record, I have it on good authority that I’m _very_ talented.”

Merlin didn’t bother trying to disguise his snort. “Of course people would say you’re good. No one wants to offend the prince and risk getting beheaded.” 

Arthur stepped closer than was socially acceptable, bridging the distance between them until he could feel Merlin’s every exhale against his face. “Is that so?” 

Merlin tried to step back, but his heel caught on an uneven tile. Arthur’s hand darted out, thwarting what would have been a graceless tumble. 

“Careful, Merlin. One would almost think you’re nervous.” 

He scoffed. “Of you?” 

“It’s alright to admit you don’t think you’re capable of handling me. I won’t think any less of you for it.” As an afterthought he added, “Mainly because it’s not possible to think less of you than I already do.” 

“It’s you who wouldn’t be able to handle me!” 

Arthur fixed him a lazy smirk. “I doubt that.” 

“Y-you seem awfully insistent.” 

He shrugged. “Not like it would be much of an inconvenience. You’d probably only last thirty seconds at most.”

“I would not!” 

He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Prove it.” 

Merlin held his stare, and Arthur felt a frisson of electricity crackle down his spine. He wasn’t sure who moved first, only that one moment they were staring each other down, and the next their lips were crashing together in a fierce, jarring kiss. Their teeth clacked and their noses bumped, but neither was willing to give up any ground. Arthur learned that for all he pushed, Merlin was there to answer him. Finally he reached up to tug at one of Merlin's large ears, taking him by enough surprise to be able to suck that plump lower lip between his own. Arthur tugged at it with his teeth until it was slick and reddened, before thrusting his tongue in and out of Merlin’s mouth, a mimicry of penetration. Merlin gasped into his mouth, and he answered those breathy sighs with a low moan. 

When the need for air became imperative, they pulled apart to suck in lungfuls of oxygen. 

Arthur took a moment to drag his eyes up and down Merlin’s body, and took in his disheveled appearance. He could already discern the outline of Merlin’s cock through his trousers, and from the bulge he could see, he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to be disappointed. 

“My eyes are up here, you know.” Merlin cracked a grin that did strange things to Arthur’s heart. He scowled. If Merlin had the presence of mind to joke, his work clearly wasn’t done. 

“Strip.” 

“Bossy,” Merlin noted, but Arthur didn’t miss the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. 

“I _am_ the prince.”

He rolled his eyes. “As you so love to remind everyone.” 

Ooh, Arthur couldn’t wait for the moment when Merlin was too lust-addled and aroused to formulate words, let alone talk back. He tilted his head, strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes. “I won’t ask again, Merlin.” 

“Fine.” His servant’s hands shook as he unknotted his tattered red scarf from this throat and divested himself of his clothing until only his smallclothes remained. When he noticed Arthur’s state of dress, he arched his brow. “Are you waiting for something?” 

“Surely you don’t expect me to undress myself?” 

“Of course not,” Merlin sighed. He stepped closer, his hands alighting on Arthur’s shoulders, mapping out the strong muscles there, before lowering to remove his shirt. The air between them still felt charged, and Arthur felt as though all his nerve endings were on fire. Being undressed by Merlin was usually a hasty, careless affair, but there was something sensual about it now. His long, thin fingers lingered unnecessarily, dragging across every inch of bare flesh he could access. 

Arthur’s breath hitched as Merlin reached for his trousers. Merlin’s grin was positively wicked as his hand brushed Arthur’s prominent arousal. Arthur dug his nails into his palms, fighting the urge to buck up into Merlin’s hand. 

“Any day now, Merlin.” 

His trousers pooled to the ground, and he stepped out of them as gracefully as he could manage. His erection jutted out proudly, and he was already absurdly hard. He half-expected Merlin to tease him for it, but his manservant was uncharacteristically silent. “Like what you see?” 

Merlin managed only a strangled noise in response. Hah. 

“Try not to come in five seconds, okay Merlin?” With that he sunk to his knees, his hands immediately going for Merlin’s braies. He tugged the fabric down, and Merlin’s manhood sprang free to slap his stomach. 

As far as cocks went, it wasn’t hideous. It was slender like the rest of Merlin, and admittedly long. Maybe even longer than Arthur’s, but certainly not as thick. It was flushed the same rosy hue as Merlin’s cheeks, and it was already dripping copious amounts of precome. 

Arthur inhaled sharply. “Look at you. You’re almost as wet as a woman.”

“I am not!” he protested automatically. 

“Really, Merlin. I was joking when I called you a girl earlier, but now I’m starting to wonder.” 

“Shut up!” 

Oh, gladly. Arthur wrapped a hand around him, feeling the weight and girth of him. He circled the ridge at the head, then skated over the tip with a deliberate lightness. He fondled Merlin’s bollocks, before stroking him slowly from base to tip. Merlin squirmed against the agonizing pace. 

“Hurry up,” he urged. Arthur ignored him as usual. He may have been on his knees, but he was not at all subservient. He was the one controlling the pace, dictating Merlin’s pleasure. He could bring him over the precipice of release, or keep him teetering on the brink of it. 

Arthur slowly swiped his thumb through the pearly liquid on the head of Merlin’s cock, spreading the fluid around. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to taste him. And Arthur rarely denied himself what he wanted. 

He lowered his mouth, circling the corona with his tongue, before digging his tongue into the slit to coax more precome from it. Merlin’s gasp was almost theatrical, but Arthur had no doubt it was genuine. He lapped at the slit some more, before venturing downwards. He traced along the vein on the underside of Merlin's swollen cock, feeling it throb against his tongue. 

Merlin’s hands fisted tightly in the strands of Arthur’s hair as he began to suck in earnest. He bobbed his head, sucking on the upstroke, and opening wider on the downstroke. He was careful to avoid scraping his teeth on him, but he figured a bit of pressure wouldn’t hurt anyone. Also, Merlin deserved it. 

He gasped again when Arthur carefully ran his teeth along him. “C-careful!” 

_You’re in no position to be giving orders,_ Arthur thought, but he couldn’t be bothered to remove his mouth long enough to speak. He established a rhythm that was broken when Merlin’s hips suddenly jerked forward, thrusting his cock farther into Arthur’s mouth than he’d ever taken anyone before. His eyes watered as he fought not to choke.

“Sorry,” Merlin said belatedly. 

_No you’re not._ Arthur pulled off to glare at him. “You’re feeling rather bold today, aren’t you, Merlin?” his voice came out as a rasp and he coughed to clear it. “Next time you neglect to use my proper titles, I think I'll reverse our roles. Force you to your knees and make you take my cock. Would you like that?” 

Merlin’s chest heaved on a silent sob. “Please.” 

About time he learned some manners. Arthur sucked him down again, hollowing his cheeks and relaxing his throat to take him further, all the while staring up at him. Merlin’s threw his head back in ecstasy. Arthur felt a rush of power at seeing his servant come a part under his touch. Merlin had to defer to him to achieve pleasure, and he could deny him as long as he saw fit. 

Merlin’s cries consisted largely of Arthur’s name, but among other incoherent exhortations, he could discern “pleasepleaseplease,” followed by a string of moans. 

Arthur pulled off once again. “Look at you,” he breathed. “Usually so mouthy and disrespectful and now you can't even make noise except to moan. I’ve been to whorehouses that were quieter than you.”

Merlin’s noise of protest petered out into yet another moan when Arthur flicked his tongue across the sensitive slit. 

Merlin keened and shuddered. “Close. I’m close, Arthur.” 

He watched Merlin’s bollocks tighten and draw towards his body, but if he thought he was coming, he was sorely mistaken. Arthur gripped him painfully hard at the base, staving off his imminent release. 

Merlin let out a wail. “Arthur,” he pleaded. 

“On a first-name basis, are we?” 

“P-please. Let me come” 

“Asking favours from the prince of Camelot? You have some cheek.” Arthur pinched his bum for good measure, then petted one cheek condescendingly. 

“Please. Please, Arthur. I need to come.” 

Arthur arched an unimpressed brow. 

When Merlin realized his begging wasn’t going to amount to anything he ground out, “Finish me off or I’m going to take care of this myself.” 

“You’re not,” Arthur corrected. “I’m not going to let you.”

Merlin clamped his lower lip between his teeth. “What do you want?”

Arthur licked the precome off his lips. “I’m not asking for much. Only that you use my proper monikers for once.”

“God, you really are a prat,” Merlin sobbed.

Not releasing his harsh grip on Merlin’s cock, he pressed his thumb into the sensitive space behind his bollocks, edging near his entrance. Merlin squirmed and writhed against the pressure. 

“Agh-fine. Please let me come, _my lord_.”

“Better,” Arthur conceded, his voice somehow coming out level even as his own cock throbbed. It wasn’t just the words themselves that made his already hard cock swell even more. It was the breathy, reverent tone Merlin spoke them in. “But I’m still not convinced.” 

“Sire, please.” Merlin’s trembling intensified until Arthur was impressed he was able to remain standing at all. Arthur reached down to palm his own aching arousal before lowering his mouth to the head of Merlin’s cock. He exhaled heavily across the slick head. “I want to hear you say it.” His lips brushed the flushed, dripping head, but he didn’t take him back in his mouth. Not yet. 

“Say what?” Merlin all but sobbed. 

Arthur lifted his gaze, meeting Merlin’s near delirious lust-darkened gaze. “Say that you’re a clotpole.’” 

“You have to be joking.” 

“Say that you’re a clotpole and a dollop-head.’” 

“But those are my words!” 

Arthur fought not to smirk. 

Merlin was clearly at his wits end, because he acquiesced after only a single hate-filled glare. “Fine. I’m a clotpole and a dollop-head.” 

“You are,” Arthur agreed, before swallowing him down with a strong suck. Merlin gasped, his hips stuttering forward until his cock nudged the back of Arthur’s throat. Normally this would warrant punishment, but Arthur supposed he was feeling generous under the circumstances. Scarcely a few seconds passed before Merlin’s head thumped loudly against the wall. His moan was low and guttural as he lost himself to the throes of pleasure. Merlin’s entire body was wracked with shudders as he pulsed his release down Arthur’s throat. 

Merlin’s pale throat bared and his lashes fluttered madly while his body spasmed with pleasure. Pleasure that Arthur alone had brought him. His naked torso was covered with a beautiful sex flush, his lips were ragged and raw from biting them so much, and his body shuddered from the aftershocks. 

Arthur’s own cock spasmed in his grip at the sight, painting come across his stomach and chest. He’d order Merlin to clean it up later. For now he wanted to bask a little. 

They both fought to regain their breath after the dizzying rush of euphoria. 

“I told you I could take you apart with one blow,” Arthur said once he no longer felt like his brain was going to white out. 

Merlin sagged back against the wall. He took a minute to compose himself before glancing at Arthur’s spent cock. “And I told you I could take you apart with less than that.” 

He glowered. “Shut up.” 

“Of course, sire.” 

Even though there was no way he could get hard for at least another fifteen minutes, Arthur’s cock twitched. Of course it didn’t go unnoticed by Merlin. 

“You really do like that.” 

“I don’t--” he protested. 

“Mmm, my prince. I can just imagine you in a meeting, getting hot and bothered hearing me call you _lord_ or _sire_.” 

Arthur was too sensitive to harden once more, but he still felt his cock give a defiant throb. “I will kill you,” he vowed. 

Merlin, the idiot that he was, merely grinned at the threat. “I look forward to it. _Your highness_.”


End file.
